Spiral
by Summoner of Dusk
Summary: The Second Great Shinobi World War. Through defending their home in fierce pride and uniting against the terrifying Salamander Hanzo, the Legendary Sannin are born. But the damage dealt by war is irreversible. A story of love and death. Tsunade's POV, TxJ
1. Lost & Found

_Disclaimer: Naruto & Co. don't belong to me. They belong to Kishimoto-sensei. So don't sue me._

A/N: Hey everyone. I'm in for a bit of an epic adventure here, and I want to thank everyone who stumbled across this story and decided to join me. The Legendary Sannin get a lot of screen time, but we only get to hear bits and pieces of their past. I decided it's about time somebody tried to shed some light on what life was really like during the Second Great Shinobi World War and what happened during the Sannin's rise to fame. I mean, think about it. A lot of shit went down during the war, and Kishimoto only scratches the surface with his flashbacks!! So I took matters into my own hands, heheh. Written from Tsunade's POV, I'm sure that you all will catch on to the timing pretty quickly. Well, there's nothing really left to say, except go forth and enjoy!

_**Spiral **_  
_Chapter 01: Lost & Found_

I don't think the rain has ceased since that fateful day two weeks ago. Even tonight the drone of the downpour drowned out every other sound. It's not like I was paying any attention to the clamor of my surroundings, anyway. I don't even remember how I got as far as this little noodle shop, let alone how I managed to order my usual sake and gyoza without needing to snap myself back into reality. All that mattered was the small cup of glorious alcohol in my hand, the plate of steaming hot gyoza on my table, and the howling wind and splashing rain of the storm in the background. I sat and sipped my sake in a daze, feeling my head grow fuzzy from the alcohol and losing my focus, letting the rain do its best to wash those painful visions away.

It was still impossible to grasp. Until recently the phrase "casualties of war" had only been something I'd read in mission reports or history books. I knew fundamentally the effects of war, and that sacrifices must be made in order to spark change. I also knew that war brings nothing but death and misery to those involved. I knew these things, but I still couldn't grasp it. I couldn't grasp the fact that this war would reach out and take from me the two I held most dear. That this war would claim its next victims from _me_.

In the end, it didn't matter how much time it took to get over the fact that the war had reached my front door. The fact of the matter was, Nawaki was gone. And now Dan had joined him. Both gone forever. Never to open their eyes again. Never to smile again. Those dreams that they fought so fiercely for vanished in an instant. And once again, my grandfather's necklace hung from my neck, weighing more than a thousand crystals.

I lost track of how many bottles of sake I had been through by the time Jiraiya appeared in that little noodle shop. I still don't know how he managed to find me. He hadn't been with me the day I lost Dan, and since then I certainly hadn't tried to contact him. The last two weeks had passed in one long, miserable gray blur. To be honest, I didn't even notice Jiraiya sitting there until he reached across the table to wipe my face with his towel. I hadn't realized it until that point, but I guess I had been crying. I didn't know I had tears left to cry. My eyes refocused, and I stared hazily at him, my head spinning, the sake hindering my ability to think straight.

"Jeez, look at you, Tsunade," Jiraiya was saying, with a troubled frown contorting his usually carefree expression. It's funny, but when he wasn't wearing that perverted grin for once, he actually looked somewhat attractive. Then again, maybe that was the alcohol talking. Jiraiya snapped me out of that line of thought when he reached cautiously for my current bottle of sake. "I think you've had just about enough."

I must have shot him a death glare similar to the one I gave him years ago—just before I beat the shit out of him for peeping on me—because instead of taking the bottle away, he poured me another cup and set the bottle back down, wiping the sweat from his brow nervously. Without a word I reached down and raised the cup to my lips, quickly downing the contents. Once I set the cup back down on the table, Jiraiya, most likely due to the change in my expression, decided it was safe to speak again.

"Tsunade, we need you to come back. Some of our best men are seriously injured, and you're the only one who can help them. Face it, you're the best we've got." He paused, trying to gauge my reaction, I'd assume. I can't say I had much of a reaction to begin with, though. It was only a matter of time before either he or Orochimaru showed up to bring me back to the battlefield. And that was just too damn bad. There was no way they were getting me to go back to that bloodbath. Ugh. Just thinking about it sent a shudder through my body. I'm sure Jiraiya noticed.

"We need you, Tsunade," Jiraiya continued, sighing. "You can't give up just because you couldn't save Dan."

I'm not entirely sure what happened to my body at that moment. Something in the back of my head snapped, and it suddenly became extremely hard to keep my chakra from flowing freely out into a bluish aura surrounding me. In that same instant I stood abruptly from the table, banging my thighs against it in the process and knocking over my bottle of sake. The anger and hatred I felt was intensified by a burning sensation erupting from my stomach. Clenching my fists hard enough to break skin, I glared down at Jiraiya. I had never wished harder for anyone to disappear than in that moment.

"Never mention his name to me again."

The entire room had hushed, and the sound of the storm swallowed up the silence. I don't know how long Jiraiya and I stared at each other before I decided looking at his face any more would make me vomit. Turning on my heels, I stormed out of the little noodle shop and into the rain.

-

-

I guess you can say that eventually Jiraiya's words got to me. It's not that I wanted to give up. Going back to the front lines would only force me to accept Dan's death. He would no longer appear by my side to fight with me. He would no longer praise me for my brute strength, or my miraculous medical jutsus. He would no longer hold me in his arms after a victory, smile at me and tell me that we did it, we did it together. Returning to the battlefield meant facing the cold, harsh reality that Dan was gone, and I just wasn't strong enough for that.

There came a day, and I don't know how many nights I spent in a drunken stupor before that day came, but there came a day that I grew tired of the constant pain, not only in my head but in my heart. I was ready to move on. So I donned my jounin vest, and I tightened my hitai-ate around my forehead, and I stepped out into the first sun this side of the country had seen for weeks. I was more than partially stunned to see Orochimaru standing on the opposite side of the street, waiting for me.

"Jiraiya's been pretty down lately," he greeted me with his usual sneer. "He keeps beating himself up over what he said to you. You must have really chopped off his balls." He paused to watch my facial expression twitch at the memory. "In any case, I'm glad you're finally coming back."

"You, glad?" I let out a hearty laugh. "I never thought I'd see the day when you were happy about anything."

"You're my teammate, Tsunade," Orochimaru responded with a slightly pained expression, one that I knew was only fabricated. "Jiraiya wasn't the only one worried about you, you know."

"Save it," I spat in disgust, but then the light bulb clicked on above my head and I lost interest in being short with my teammate. "Wait a second, if Jiraiya's been so worried, why isn't he here with you?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Orochimaru answered, amusement lighting his fair features. "The fool has been so troubled it's been distracting him on the battlefield. He went and got himself impaled with a giant shuriken, and you know how easy those things are to avoid."

I think Orochimaru kept talking at that point, but my mind had already blanked out. Without making a conscious decision to move, my feet had carried me to the battlefield, in search of that doofus who couldn't dodge a shuriken. It was a mess. Fallen shinobi strewn across the ground, the clang of metal against metal ringing loudly over the shouts of pain and suffering. Why had the world come to this? What was the point of this foolish war? What was it that drove these men to fight until their very last breath? I had lost sight of the goal, and all I could see was blood. Blood everywhere. Soaking into the ground and turning everything red.

My vision went hazy; I guess I had forgotten to breathe. I hadn't even noticed how much my body was shaking. I wanted to run away, but for once I couldn't will myself to take so much as a step backward. On the contrary, my legs lost their ability to stand and I crashed into the reddened dirt, unable to tear my eyes from the slaughter before me. I thought I was going to be sick.

Suddenly, warmth caressed my body as two strong arms folded around me and pulled me up off the ground. His smell flooded my nostrils, washing away the sickening metallic scent of blood. I knew instinctively that it was Jiraiya, but my head wasn't screwed on straight. I melted into his arms, and I could feel hot tears pouring down my cheeks.

"I knew you'd come back for me," I spluttered, "Dan."

I don't remember anything after that.

-

-

I woke up to the sound of a bird's song and the bright sunlight filtering in through the window. As my eyes took in my surroundings, it took a few moments for my memories to catch up with me. It was as if the horrendous scene of war had been nothing more than a nightmare; it was the farthest thing from this peaceful room.

The sound of the door sliding open and the smell of a luxurious breakfast brought me back to the present. I sat up with some difficulty and turned my head to find Jiraiya standing in the doorway with a tray of food. He flashed a warm smile and crossed the tatami mat floor to take a seat beside my futon, setting the tray down gently. I watched dully as Jiraiya proceeded to pour fragrant green tea into three small cups. Three?

"Orochimaru is here, too," Jiraiya explained simply, as if reading my thoughts.

"Ah," was all I could manage in reply. And then, I suddenly realized the absurdity of Jiraiya sitting with me casually serving tea.

"Hang on," I said sharply, looking up at Jiraiya in confusion. "Orochimaru said that you were injured."

Jiraiya stared back at me in equal confusion for a few seconds before realizing what I was referring to. He smiled sheepishly and handed me one of the cups of tea.

"Oh that?" Jiraiya laughed. "That was nothing. It was my own fault anyway. No harm done. See?" He flexed his arm muscles energetically. Seeing him in perfectly good health, I shifted my attention to the steaming tea in my hands. I felt like an idiot for jumping to such a conclusion. Of course, I wasn't the only medical-nin. Of course he would have been healed right away. Why did I feel like I was the only one who could save him? I couldn't even save Dan...

I jumped slightly when Jiraiya held out a bowl of steaming rice for me to eat. My eyes followed his arm up to his smiling face, and my heart palpitated. His eyes seemed so pure, so kind. Had he always been like this, and I just hadn't noticed? In a daze, I set down my cup of tea and took the rice and chopsticks obediently, breaking eye contact to look down at the bowl now in my hands.

"For what it's worth," Jiraiya broke the silence that was quickly becoming too thick, "I'm glad you're back."

I looked up at him to find him looking right back at me, and this time I couldn't look away. I couldn't understand why that look of his—not the usual goofy grin, but more of a soft, endearing smile—I couldn't understand why it made my heart thump so frantically. Why in this room, everything else disappeared, and all that was left was the two of us. I didn't care about his philandering ways, his sleazy smiles, none of it. What mattered was that he was here, now, smiling like that at me, forbidding me from breaking his gaze, holding me captive, casting a spell on me. He was the world in that moment.

This war must have really fucked me up.

I was saved from my trance when Orochimaru entered the room, sliding the door shut and smirking knowingly at the two of us. Feeling my face growing hot, I quickly looked down and shoved my mouth full of rice to avoid having to speak. I could hear Orochimaru settling himself into a seat nearby and serving himself some breakfast. I wondered vaguely if the silence that had fallen between us felt as awkward to him as it did to me.

"Good morning, Princess," was Orochimaru's smug greeting.

"Don't you 'good morning, Princess' me, you shameless piece of snake shit!!" I burst out, unable to stop myself. Flecks of rice flew from my mouth as I shouted. With Jiraiya usually the brunt of my sudden anger, I'm sure both of my teammates were quite shocked that I'd explode on Orochimaru. Well, Orochimaru looked more amused than anything. I bet Jiraiya was choking on his fish. Then again, I didn't dare look at him, for fear of getting sucked into another one of his spells.

"Now, now, Princess." Orochimaru smirked, picking a grain of rice from his pale cheek. "I thought you'd be delighted to have the three of us all together again."

"Cool it, Orochimaru," Jiraiya cut in before I had a chance to shout again. "Now's not the time for your sarcasm."

"Nor your idiocy, I daresay," Orochimaru countered with a roll of his eyes. I went back to my rice, silently fuming for reasons I couldn't quite understand, as the two boys delved into yet another one of their endless arguments. It was if I hadn't been gone a day. The war hadn't changed these two at all. I sighed loudly, drawing their attention away from each other and back to the initial subject: me.

"Now that you're back, you've got a lot of work to do," Orochimaru stated bluntly. "A quite skilled poison-user from Sunagakure has emerged, and she's causing us quite a bit of trouble. None of our medical-nins have been able to come up with an antidote for her poisons yet, and we've lost a lot of good shinobi to her."

"It's not like Amegakure hasn't been giving us a hard enough time as it is," Jiraiya mentioned quietly, gazing out the window. "With all the rain lately, they've been in their own element. It hasn't been pretty."

"Whatever the case," Orochimaru continued, casting a perturbed glance in Jiraiya's direction, "things aren't looking good for Konoha. It sounds like Suna is going to try to wipe out Konoha first before turning on any other village, since we're the biggest threat. That in addition to Ame's advantage has taken its toll on us. And our medical-nins just haven't been strong enough."

"We need you back, Tsunade." I felt Jiraiya's eyes on me again as he spoke, but I refused to look up and meet them. "You're all we've got."

A silence fell between the three of us then, neither of the boys wanting to push anything more onto my already fragile state of mind. Saying nothing in response to their explanation, I simply continued to eat my breakfast, waiting for one of them to say something convincing. Turns out, I didn't have to wait long at all.

Orochimaru's clothing rustled as he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a thin vial containing some kind of mysterious green liquid. He held it out to me, distracting me completely from my food. I looked from the vial to his face, my curiosity overpowering my revulsion at the haughty expression he wore.

"Think of it as a welcoming gift," he snickered. "You enjoy a good challenge, don't you?"

As I took the vial of poison from him, I could feel an old, familiar excitement bubbling in the pit of my stomach. He had one thing right; there was nothing I loved more than deciphering poisons and creating antidotes. It donned on me in that instant—the reason they called me back, and their method of weaning me back into battle. Fine. If this was how it was going to happen, I would gladly take part.

I stood up suddenly, vial in hand, and crossed swiftly to the door, a look of determination lighting my expression. With a hand on the door I turned and grinned at my teammates.

"Give me two days."

With that, I bolted from the room, the idea of a new mission pumping adrenaline into my veins, causing my heart to soar. For the first time since losing Dan, I was able to remember how much I loved being a kunoichi. And, somehow, I was smiling again.


	2. Experimental Remedy

_Disclaimer: Naruto & Co. don't belong to me. They belong to Kishimoto-sensei. So don't sue me._

A/N: Here I am, back with the second chapter. I had a lot of fun writing this one, as well as coming up with the plot of the story. I hope you guys all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Before we dive in, I'd like to give a special shout-out to my first reviewers, **Joyal **and** A Nobody **(aka Punkass). Thank you for your words of encouragement! I hope you continue to stick with me until the end. For those of you who added me to their story alerts/favorite stories, thanks! Next time, please consider reviewing to let me know what you think! I appreciate every comment! Now, let's get started, shall we?

_**Spiral  
**Chapter 02: Experimental Remedy_

Sure enough, two days after I received the vial of poison from Orochimaru, I was ready to step back onto the battlefield. Well, as far as the medical tents, anyway. When I slid through the entrance curtains, I couldn't believe my eyes. Rows upon rows of sickly shinobi stretched across the better length of the tent, and the few medical-nins there were trying their best to dart between them and offer any comfort they could manage. Had these warriors all fallen victim to Suna's poison? I felt naïve for thinking that what little antidote I had brought with me would do the trick; it would take ten times the amount just to cure those here, not to mention the countless others suffering in any of the other medical tents in the area. I felt ice-cold dread drop into the pit of my stomach as the realization dawned on me: without my help, these men would all succumb to the poison in their veins and die an excruciatingly slow and painful death. The life of each shinobi doomed with that horrible fate had been placed into my hands. I had no choice but to step forward and heal them.

One by one the other medical-nins looked up and recognized me as I strode further into the tent. Startled by my presence, no doubt, many of them stopped what they were doing and proceeded to stare as if I was some sideshow freak. I shot a stern look to one unfortunate medical-nin, an underclassman from my school days, and scolded him for neglecting his job. After his shaken apologies, I demanded he bring me a bowl and some hot water. As he shot off to fulfill my request I knelt beside his abandoned patient.

"Don't worry." I tried my best to sound reassuring and kind, but with little confidence in my bedside manner. "I'm going to take your pain away."

The pale shinobi smiled shakily up at me, wincing at the pain it must have caused him to move his facial muscles. Troubled by this man's obvious suffering, I wiped his face gently with a damp towel, wishing that the incompetent fool of a medical-nin would hurry up with my water so that I could start the healing process. I didn't have enough antidote if injected directly into their bodies, that was a fact. However, there was a reason I was known as the most highly skilled medical-nin that Konoha had to offer. I wasn't sure, but I had a plan that might save everyone with this single vial of antidote. And for that, I needed the major component of the human body: water.

When the fool finally returned with my hot water, instead of wasting time with another lecture about being prompt (which I was sincerely tempted to do), I took out my vial of antidote and held it over the steaming bowl. With utmost care, I let a single drop fall into the water. It may be an extremely weakened form of my original concoction, but with the added strength of my chakra, it should do the trick. I summoned a thin layer of chakra to cover my hands like gloves, and then dipped them into the water. In intense concentration, I lifted my hands, raising the contents of the bowl along with them. Holding on to my ball of liquid, I instructed the incompetent one to expose the patient's chest, and I took a deep, calming breath.

The poison I received from Orochimaru was the kind that shoots through the bloodstream, infecting the heart, liver, stomach, anything that requires blood to function, and slowly deteriorates them. It was a poison that kills slowly from the inside out, making it impossible to consume food or drink, and eventually even moving becomes impossible. In order to reverse it, I needed to inject my antidote into the core of the blood's flow itself. The heart. Theoretically, the heart would spread the cure throughout the infected regions of the body. My plan was the aid the heart with my chakra, to speed up the process. To my knowledge, this kind of medical ninjutsu had never been attempted, and I was terrified. Any slight miscalculation, and I could rupture one of this poor man's internal organs. But something inside told me that it would work, and that there was no other option. Calming myself, I brought the ball of liquid to the patient's chest, focused my chakra, and pushed.

As I expected, my chakra forced the liquid to permeate my patient's skin. With my hands pressed against this man's chest, I could feel the ball descending to surround his heart. Closing my eyes in order to get a clearer mental image, I willed the antidote to compress the heart ever so slightly. The man grunted as streams of poison were drawn from his heart and captured by my antidote. Yelling at the medical-nin boy to hold up my bowl for me, I lifted one hand slowly from the patient's chest, straining to pull out a portion of the liquid with it. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw the young nin's eyes widen in awe as the liquid once again permeated the skin, now with flecks of a darker liquid floating within. I brought the liquid to the bowl and dropped it, and then lifted only the antidote, leaving behind the drops of poison I had managed to extract from the patient's heart.

Holding the ball of antidote in my hand for a moment, I stared at the poison in the bowl. It wasn't exactly how I had planned to go about curing this man. Of course, I hadn't known the heart or the poison would react in such a way to the antidote I had mixed with my chakra. My medical mind raced. If I could pull the poison from the other infected organs without having to force my chakra through his bloodstream, I could heal him without putting his life in danger. Could this really work?

Determined to succeed, I pushed the antidote back into his body and closed my eyes. My hands could sense the poison. I slid my palms across the man's torso, searching for infection, and stopped at his liver. Taking a deep breath, I once again surrounded the organ with my antidote and compressed softly. Just as before, the poison abandoned its hold and surrendered to my tactics. I pulled another portion of the antidote out of his body and discarded the poison. It was working.

I repeated the process. Time after time I pulled my antidote in and out of this man, each time removing more and more poison. I continued until I couldn't feel the poison's presence anymore. When I finally pulled the liquid out of the patient for the last time and splashed it back into the bowl, I was panting. The patient's face had regained its color, and his expression no longer contorted with pain. I felt a thrill of victory flash through me. I did it. This man was cured. I saved his life when no one else could. I wanted to celebrate, but there were still many more patients to be saved. Dragging my forearm across my forehead, I stood.

"Bring me another bowl of clean, hot water," I instructed. "It's going to be a long afternoon."

-

-

-

One after another, in and out, over and over again. I lost track of how many men I had worked on. It seemed that the lineup of victims stretched beyond my imagination. There was no end in sight.

It must have been well past midnight. My body ached all over, if not from the constant arm movements, from draining my chakra. All things considered, the process itself requires a minimal amount of chakra, but an intense amount of control. Add that to the countless patients I had taken on, and you have a medical-nin who should have exhausted her chakra supply. But I wasn't ready to give in yet. There were still so many patients, so many men dying and I was the only one who could save them. There was no way I could rest now.

I sat before a new patient, struggling to keep myself upright and waiting for my assistant to bring my water. Sweat slid down my face in streams, and I breathed hard, but I barely noticed. The patient before me was the only thing that mattered. My assistant arrived and knelt beside me, and from the look on his face I knew he worried about my exhaustion, but I ignored his pleading eyes and reached for the antidote stashed away in my pouch. My hands shook as I uncorked it and held it out to release a drop into the water. Before the drop fell, however, a strong, warm hand clasped around mine and took the vial away from me.

"Jiraiya," I protested weakly. "What do you think you're doing?"

"That's what I should be asking you," he responded, in a gentler tone that I'd ever heard coming from him. His voice was so soothing. "You need to stop this. You'll kill yourself."

"I can't stop now!" I turned around to face my teammate. "There are too many victims left! I'm all they have, Jiraiya!"

"Calm down." Jiraiya placed his hands on my shoulders, and the weight caused them to sag. I could barely hold myself up anymore. "These Shinobi can survive for another day without you. You need to rest or you might kill them yourself." He paused, allowing his words to sink in. I knew he was right, after all. I knew it was impossible to save all these men in one day, but I wanted to try. I wanted to cure them all. I wanted to have a reason for living again.

Before I had a chance to react, Jiraiya swept me from the ground and lifted me into the air as he stood. I clung to his neck, startled by the abrupt movement, as he strode forward, carrying me out of the tent and away from the poor, suffering Shinobi.

Too weak to struggle against his hold, I had no choice but to allow Jiraiya to take me into town. My imagination entertained endless possibilities concerning where we'd ultimately end up, but my ponderings were cut short when Jiraiya stopped in front of a humble looking restaurant. He brought me inside and sat me down and even took it upon himself to order for the both of us. Once the waiter strode off to fetch our sake and fish, Jiraiya grinned sheepishly across the table at me.

"Sorry about this," he mentioned, no doubt worried I would knock his lights out once my strength returned. "I figured you wouldn't budge from that spot unless you were forced."

I watched Jiraiya in silence, unsure what kind of expression I was wearing, let alone what kind of expression I _should_ be wearing. I wanted to be angry with him for taking me away from those victims, for having the gall to think he'd get away with carrying me, for goodness sake. I should have been furious. But I couldn't summon the energy—or the emotion, for that matter—to feel an ounce of wrath. I just felt empty.

Jiraiya's smile fell as he took in my unresponsive state. The waiter returned with our drinks, but neither of us took our eyes off the other. It wasn't until Jiraiya finally reached down to pour the sake that I regained a sense of time and place. I brought a shaky hand to my temple in an attempt to clear my head.

"You really were amazing today." Jiraiya broke the silence as he slid my cup of sake toward me. I looked up to see him smiling uncertainly at me. "How did you know what to do?"

"I don't know," I admitted, wrapping my fingers around my cup and lifting it to my lips. The familiar taste of the rice wine was an unexpected comfort. I let out a long, contented breath as I set the empty cup back down. "I just kind of made it up as I went."

"Well, your method is a whole lot more effective than just giving them medicine and hoping it works like it should," Jiraiya commented as he refilled my cup. "You saved more than fifty men today, and by tomorrow morning they'll all be up and ready to fight again."

I almost dropped my sake. Fifty? Had it really been that many? As hard as I tried, I just couldn't wrap my mind around it.

"At the rate you're going, you'll be able to cure everyone by the end of the week," Jiraiya continued, downing his own drink. He looked up at me and when our eyes met, he smiled warmly. "I knew all along you had greatness in you."

I felt my face flush fiercely. Why? Why was Jiraiya of all people having this effect on me? Chalking it up to my weakened mental state, I swallowed another swig of sake and closed my eyes as the fire rushed down my throat and into my stomach. The waiter returned with our fish and rice then, and I ate eagerly, unaware of just how hungry I had been.

Once I had a full stomach, the exhaustion set in. Jiraiya, most likely worried I wouldn't make it alone, walked me back to my room at the inn. He stuck around until I was safely nestled under my blankets, then rose and crossed to the doorway. I'm not quite sure why, but a wave of fear flashed through me then, and I called out to him. He turned and looked down at me, cocking his head slightly to one side.

"Please," I whispered, "don't leave."

I don't know whether it was grief or weakness, or maybe even the alcohol, but all I wanted was someone to hold onto my hand as I let sleep take me. I knew that if I were left alone, those haunting nightmares of blood and death would claim me.

Thankfully, it seemed as though Jiraiya understood the plea in my eyes. Wearing a soft, comforting smile, he took the few steps over to my futon and sat beside me, placing one of his strong hands upon my head, stroking my forehead with a thumb.

"There's nothing to worry about, Princess," he said softly. "I'll be right here, so just go to sleep."

I closed my eyes, my entire body relaxing completely. With Jiraiya's fingers in my hair, his scent in my nose, and his soft, gentle hums in my ears, I drifted off to the most peaceful sleep I'd had in a long, long time.


End file.
